Ooooo let's do 16. kissing knuckles for your traveler and Cal!
thanks for encouraging me to write more A6, @captainsaku! Decided to keep it short and simple (*eyes the 20 other prompt wips*).
author’s note: this is more raynie than cal, but this is my first time writing more than a few sentences for an A6 pairing, so i hope you enjoy!
copyright: all characters, except my oc traveler, are owned by wanderlust games (@andromeda-six).
series/pairing: andromeda six – calderon lynch x f!traveler (raynie peg’asi)
rating/warnings: k+; none
word count: ~500 words
based on/prompt: physical affection prompts // 16. kissing knuckles
summary: raynie is nervous and cal calms her down.
raynie peeked out from where she was waiting behind a curtain backstage. her eyes widened at the sheer size of the crowd and she quickly turned away, closing her eyes and trying to push away the fluttering in her stomach.
after everything the crew did, after everything she went through, they were finally here. at this long-awaited moment where she would address goldis for the first time since her family was killed.
she wiped her sweaty hands down the side of her dress, hoping it didn’t stain.
how did nerissa manage to do this so easily?
how could she think she could do this at all?
why would she even want to do this?
raynie lifted her head and looked straight into the soft blue of cal’s eyes, his large build creating a shadow over her smaller one.
“you can do this,” he said.
searched his face for any signs of sarcasm or teasing, but she knew she wouldn’t find any, not like she would have if it were damon in his place.
“how do you know? i don’t know how to be a ruler, i was barely let out of the palace and i have no experience.”
raynie covered her face with her hands, trying to take deep breaths and keep the onslaught of panicked tears at bay.
cal gently pried her hands off her face, holding them in his large ones.
“i know because i’ve seen what you’re capable of first-hand. you’re reckless and careless with your safety sometimes,” he said, a hint of fear glinting in his gaze. “but you’re brave and resourceful.”
she dropped her gaze, feeling a flush begin to creep up her neck and color her cheeks.
he raised her hand to his lips, forcing her to draw her gaze back up to meet his.
“but most of all,” he murmured against her knuckles. “you care about others. it’s why i fell in love with you.”
his lips brushed against her knuckles, the featherlight touch sending goosebumps up her arms. cal released her hand and gave her a soft smile before turning her around so she was facing the stage.
she looked back once as he nudged her forward, catching his gaze that seemed to hold a million promises between them. he bowed before making his exit, and a renewed sense of determination fueled her steps.
maybe she could do this after all.
* * * * *
taglist: @gloynporslen; @anotherbeingsworld; @pearlsandsteel;
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The prompt 'don't leave' for traveller x June! 💚💚
thank you for the request, alya! I hope this little microprompt does them justice (it gives me some ideas for a wip I have at least xD)
author’s note: thank you, @anotherbeingsworld! this is a little more than ten sentences, but whatever xD. this was a great chance to explore a little bit of their dynamic to inspire me to do work on my post-nightmare comfort wip featuring these two. it also took me forever to settle on a traveler name that would be shippable. hope you all enjoy!
copyright: all characters, except my oc traveler, are owned by wanderlust games @andromeda-six
series/pairing: andromeda six – juniper nyux x f!traveler (raynie peg’asi)
rating/warnings: k+; none
based on/prompt: microprompts // 1. don’t leave
word count: ~200
raynie woke up to the sound of loud knocking against her door and she rubbed her eyes sleepily. “come in,” she called out, eyes widening in surprise when june appeared before her.
“your door was open and i heard screaming,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
it was raynie’s turn to flush. “sorry about that, i should’ve remembered to close the door.”
“i’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, relief visibly leaving his tense shoulders.
a faint blush tinged his cheeks as he glanced at her thin tank top before looking away, making a concerted effort not to stare.
“i shouldn’t intrude on you this late at night, um, excuse me.”
“wait, don’t leave,” she called out, tucking a stray hair behind her ears shyly. “can you stay with me until i fall asleep again? you know… because of the nightmares.”
june hesitated for a second before nodding and making his way over to the bed, removing his weapons and shoes before climbing in next to her, taking extra care to stay on top of the blanket. raynie snuggled against him, laying her head on his chest, the warmth of his body and steady heartbeat lulling her quickly into a dreamless sleep.
from these microprompts (always accepting)
* * * * *
taglist: @gloynporslen; @anotherbeingsworld; @pearlsandsteel;
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part 2: cruelty
pairing: Vexx/f!traveler (Adonia)
warnings: some mild suggestive language
read on ao3
Vexx almost makes it back to the barracks. Crescents mark where his nails have dug into his palm, and he is grateful for the late hour as he slides down the wall of the hallway and sinks to the floor. He can still smell her perfume. He has no nose for fragrance but he knows hers well. At first encounter all softness and flowers, like a spring day walking in the gardens, but it’s not the flowers that linger on his skin. Something deeper, something warm and enticing, teases at his senses and sets his pulse racing. He half expects to find her watching him from the end of the hall, but she’s not there. She is back in her room where he left her.
If he returned and knocked on the door would she answer? Would she let him in? She shouldn’t, but she would. Addie trusts him. She loves him. She hadn’t finishing saying the word, but he’d seen it in her eyes. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s guessed it for a while now, heard it in the way she said his name, felt it when she would squeeze his hand.
He could go back and take all that she offers. Lose himself in her softness, and her warmth and her love.
A year ago, he’d expected the Princess Adonia to be a vapid and shallow thing, someone only concerned with her wealth and status. Someone expecting to be pampered and coddled at every turn.
That was until he’d happened upon her creeping out from behind a tapestry. The sight of her like that, cobwebs stuck in her long chestnut hair and smudges on her face, was so at odds with his expectations. Perhaps there’s more to this princess than I thought he’d mused to himself with a soft chuckle.
There was so much more to her.
The problem is there’s also so much more to him. Zovack gave him one job, find a way around security, find a way for him to storm the palace, find a way for him to take the throne. Information he’d had for months now. Information Addie had given him, with a shy smile and sparkling eyes, not knowing it would spell her doom.
Except it hadn’t.
It’s been many months since she mentioned a passageway that led out beyond the walls of the palace. She was different in the tunnels. Less guarded, her smile wider. He hadn’t known she had dimples until then.
“Do you run off and explore the city when I’m not looking princess?” he’d asked leaning close in the confined space.
He’d been flattered when he’d first noticed her crush. As much as he pretended it was a tactical move, he enjoyed encouraging her affections. He enjoyed the breathy quality to her voice when she got nervous and her habit of biting her lip when unable to think of a response to his antics.
“What? No,” she’d responded her voice flustered.
“I wouldn’t even know where to go. It’s not that I don’t want to,” her voice dropped to a whisper before she went silent. He remembers the longing in her eyes.
He should have gone to Zovack that night, but he hadn’t. She had given him exactly what they would need. She had given him the tools to bring this whole rotten palace down around them. She had given him the tools to free his parents.
It would just cost her life. At the time, he’d told himself he need more information, better information to give Zovack, but was that really the truth? It suddenly wasn’t so easy to sign her death warrant. When did she begin to matter?
Was it that day he heard music coming from a supposedly empty hall and discovered her dancing? He’d been transfixed by the sight of her. Her body swaying and moving to the music in graceful movements as she balanced on her toes and spun and pirouetted through the empty space. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, so much so that he’d leaned out from the shadows to get a better view. She’d caught him red handed, but been so embarrassed that she’d hadn’t questioned what he was doing so far away from his post. He can’t even remember what excuse he’d come up with. She trusted him. She’d always been too trusting.
Was it the day he’d finally led her out into the sunshine on the other side of the palace walls? Her tentative first steps into the city that she had lived her whole life in but never visited. She’d looks so different then, her hair in a long braid down her back, in a stolen hat and coat, no longer a princess, but just Adonia.
They’d sat near one of the cities many fountains sharing a snack and watching the people pass. Her eyes hungry and drinking in all the sights. The children in particular delighted her, “I’m the youngest” she had told him. “Ven’dela was always with her mother, and Arlo didn’t want to waste time playing with a girl.”
Her voice turned wistful, “I wonder what it would have been like to so many friends, at least I have you now, Vexx.”
“Of course, Princess,” he’d answered trying to ignore the feelings of guilt her statement elicited.
Her eyes widened with panic, “you shouldn’t call me that here, what if someone overheard you?”
“They’d probably think I was flirting with you,” he’d said with a smirk. “What should I call you then princess? Adonia?”
“What else would you call me?”
“I don’t know Adonia is a bit of a mouth full, feels a bit pretentious too,” She scowled, her face all scrunched up. He’d laughed, she always managed to make him laugh, and after a moment offered, “how about Addie?”
“Addie?” she tried the name out feeling the syllables out with her mouth, and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from her lips, “I like that.”
It had been Addie from then on. Not in public, because he was still a guard and she was a princess, but, whenever they were alone. Either exploring the streets of the city or the hidden spaces of the palace, they were alone often.
As much as he flirted and teased, he hadn’t planned on kissing her. It had happened on one of their many excursions into the city; they’d been caught in a surprise rain storm. The day had started all sunshine and then the skies had darkened. When it began to pour, instead of running for shelter she’d tipped her head back and let the rain fall over her skin. She’d laughed and then kicked water at him from a puddle. Had they run, they probably could have made it back to the passageway relatively dry, but they didn’t. Instead, they laughed and played and by the time they made it they were soaked.
He hadn’t been thinking about Zovack and revolution, he’d been thinking how the sound of her laugh made him feel light. He hadn’t known until later that it was her first kiss. All he’d known was that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.
Zovack has been endlessly patient with him, accepting all his delays and promises to fulfill his mission, but from the coded message Vexx had received this morning his patience has run out. Zovack wants him to report in person, and Nerissa needs more time.
Time that Vexx would try to buy her.
Vexx is no fool. He knows that lying to Zovack is dangerous. At best Zovack will think he is a failure, and he’s killed for less than that. The masquerade was one last chance to hold Addie in his arms. To see her smile, and even for just a moment see the world with the joy and wonder that she does.
She’d looked so beautiful tonight. The yellow of her dress complimented her tawny skin, and even behind her mask her blue eyes had sparkled. She’d felt so right in he’s arms as they’d spun along the ballroom floor. He’d seen more than a few heads turn to watch her graceful movements and felt the thrill of pride that she was in his arms.
He’s not sure he’d ever desired someone more.
It was a goodbye. When they danced in the garden, he’d tried his best to imprint her face on his memory. He wouldn’t let himself forget the way the moonlight shimmered over her features and got caught in her long dark hair. He would remember the quiet of the garden and the feeling that they were all alone in the world. Even now, he can close his eyes he can still feel the warmth of her hand in his.
He should have made an excuse when she asked him to come to her room, but he hadn’t. He’d had her there, willing, and open. The soft curves of her shivering under his hands and his lips.
I love her.
That’s what stopped him. When he heard her begin to say it, he knew he couldn’t go through with this. No matter how much he may want to lose himself in her. No matter how willing she was.
It would be a cruelty. It was already a cruelty. There was a whole year of cruelties that he had committed against her. A year of smiles and jokes and dreams of a life they could spend together.
With a shuddering breath, he rises from his slumped position. He only allows himself a glance back down the hall. For a brief moment he considers asking her to run away with him. He always promised to take her traveling.
It’s a fool’s dream. Zovack would hunt them to the edge of the system and beyond.
The only thing he can do now is try to buy them time.
He has to try.
tagging: @lord-king-saint, @bellarxse, @alavidzes, @roses-and-roo, and @pearlsandsteel
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Title: Ashes, Ashes
Summary: If no one is watching, if no one is here, then there is absolutely nothing stopping her from breaking. There’s nothing stopping her from smashing through the metal-puppet-framework she has built to hold herself up. The gestalt of ugliness inside of her that she has kept at bay with gauzy calm is gnawing, writhing under her skin, and she cannot think of a single reason in the System not to let it eat her alive until her soul itself is so ugly that Cursa would shy away from it. (A Traveler who is usually Strong knows she is Emotional underneath it all, but she can’t let herself feel.)
Warnings: mild body horror, blood mentions, canonical minor character death
Notes: Hey, so, I finally decided to play Andromeda Six, and it was definitely a good time. I was a little sad that I haven’t been able to control my Traveler’s reactions to what happens to them as much as I wanted, though I understand why the A6 writing team made the decisions they did given Traveler’s past. So I figured the best way to deal with it is to just write about it because if it’s fanfiction, I can do what I want. So, here’s a little moment between my first traveler, Yumeha, and Cal, with whom she wants to be friends. Yu isn’t romancing Cal in this run, though.
Also here on AO3.
She hates this room. It’s cold and bare and quiet, save for the humming of the ship that still drills into her head like a swarm of insects. The lack of comfort—or rather, the difference between this and silk sheets, personal heaters, guards and servants at her beck and call, art pieces so expensive they could pay for a small fleet—isn’t what gets to her. Sometimes she misses having a well-balanced mattress, but…
No, it’s not the lack of luxury. It’s the lack of anything.
Except the music box that sits cradled between her pillow and the window, staring out into the endless expanse of space that feels so impossibly vast that Yumeha can’t help but feel small. And that’s certainly no help when all she can think about is how alone she is, how insignificant her feelings are.
Even knowing that someone was standing outside the door, waiting for her to slip up and cause a problem to report, would have been better than this, she thinks, because if no one is watching, if no one is here, then there is absolutely nothing stopping her from breaking. There’s nothing stopping her from smashing through the metal-puppet-framework she has built to hold herself up. The gestalt of ugliness inside of her that she has kept at bay with gauzy calm is gnawing, writhing under her skin, and she cannot think of a single reason in the System not to let it eat her alive until her soul itself is so ugly that Cursa would shy away from it.
She puts a hand on her chest and presses down. The heel of her palm digs into its center, bearing down on that spot that makes her throat shiver in response. She thinks Ryona has told her the name of it, something with an s, but she can’t remember.
There’s a knock at the door, and Yumeha sits up with a gasp as though being awoken from a nightmare. For a brief few seconds, she thinks that this might be what she needs, someone to keep the joints locked together so no one sees when oil spills from her like blood spilled from her sister’s throat—
The moment is short-lived when she opens the door and sees the Captain standing there, staring imperiously down his nose at her. It reminds her of her older brothers, a little, and it is not comforting.
“Stowaway,” Calderon starts. His voice is light, a nickname instead of something disparaging. Yumeha pulls away from the door like it burned her.
Keeping herself in control in front of him should be easy, she thinks. He, aside from June, is probably the one who has the most reason to hate her, but Calderon’s heart is not as open. She does not feel like being better is enough for him sometimes. And that makes it so, so hard.
The door remained open, even as she stepped back and turned away, and she hears Calderon step inside. He doesn’t close it behind him. “Is this a bad time?” he asks. She thinks he might be mocking her, though, until he adds, a little awkwardly, “Ryona said you probably weren’t asleep yet, so I just wanted to discuss how we’ll hide your identity at our destination.”
Yumeha can’t help it. She laughs. It’s a single sound, and it’s wet, and it’s toxic, and it sounds to her like that one time one of the bells in the city broke when struck. She doesn’t know what face she makes when it happens, but she can feel it pulling at her skin like cloth about to rip, and she claps a hand over her mouth so hard it makes her teeth hurt.
“Are you alright?” Calderon asks.
She says nothing. She doesn’t know if it’s because she can’t or because they both know he wouldn’t believe her if she said yes.
Neither of them moves, and she’s still staring straight up at his face—never break eye contact with someone just because they’re taller, Yu, especially not a man who thinks it’s your job to fix his problems—as his expression grows more and more unsure. Finally, Yumeha shakes her head.
Calderon’s brows draw together, and his face softens in that way that it does around the crew sometimes. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, and the look on his face tells her what a monumentally stupid answer that was, even if it was a reflex. “I mean, it’s nothing you—you want to see, Captain. I just need a minute,” she says, the words spilling from her so fast that Aya would be proud. “We can talk about the disguise, of course, but could you possibly come back in just a little while?”
Not that being alone will be any better, but if she has to break, she’ll need time to clean up the mess, too.
He ignores her and closes the door. “Yumeha, what is going on?”
“I—” hate this. The words don’t come. She’s too smart for that. But it still takes until her lungs start to burn for her to recognize and release the fist now clenched at her side, smoothing it over her sleep pants. She takes a deep breath and blinks slowly before she tries again. “I just need a minute to collect my feelings,” she says. It’s almost steady.
Calderon looks for a moment like he understands. But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he sits down in the desk chair and looks levelly in Yumeha’s direction. His own face is like marble, like the way Nerissa taught Yumeha to be in difficult moments. But unlike Yumeha, she doesn’t see any cracks in his expression.
“I’ve always thought,” he says slowly, quietly, though his voice isn’t exactly gentle, “that sometimes the mind can hide things from us that we’re better off not knowing. We do it for other people all the time, hiding the harsh truths from people who can’t take knowing them.”
And all of a sudden, Yumeha is on fire. The thing inside her doesn’t even feel like flesh anymore, but it is too alive to be metal, either; too solid to disappear and not solid enough to be held back by the puppet body.
“I’m not like this because I learned the truth about my family,” she says, “or even about Vexx.”
(She thinks about stopping there, but Calderon had plenty of chances to leave, plenty of chances to let Yumeha deal with this in a way that won’t drive him away forever, reveal her as another gilded monster.)
Even so, she doesn’t yell.
“There was a part of me that knew my father was terrible. I knew something was wrong, but I could barely control my own life. I had no idea how to start helping anyone else, so I didn’t even try. And I have to live with that every day,” she says. Her cheeks burn. “I have to live for fourteen people, and I didn’t even like some of them! Now I have to live for Zovack, too, to stop him. And if I do, then what? How am I supposed to convince the whole system that the Peg’asi who deposed their liberator is the lesser of three evils, especially when I’m not?”
Something passes over Calderon’s face as she speaks. Yumeha thinks it’s anger, or maybe disgust, or maybe she’s just seeing what she feels in herself, but it makes her stomach twist so uncomfortably that her next breath hurts.
“I can’t even be honest about how much I hate Zovack and his people,” she says, and it sounds choked.
She cuts him off. “How can I be upset that they tore up the roots of so much evil just because they also destroyed the one good thing that hadn’t had a chance to flourish?” she asks. The fire has reached her eyes, but it’s only serving to make them wet as she remembers Nerissa, climbing through the bodies of their family to plead for mercy for the people. She remembers her sister’s gentle hand in her hair, a melody on lonely nights, a whisper of wisdom instead of condescending silence. Yumeha remembers all of it, and no one will ever care except her.
Her head aches, and she doesn’t know if it’s because of the tears or her thoughts or her hand, buried in her hair and tugging at her scalp. She shuts her eyes and paces a few steps away.
“I know we were wrong,” she says. “Nerissa might have had a chance to do better, but it was all so wrong that I can’t fault them for what happened, can I? If only it was meaningless. Maybe, just maybe—” (she’s walking back towards the desk now) “—if Zovack was a good man, I could have someday accepted that this was all worth it. I don’t think I could ever forgive him entirely, but I could have understood.”
“Except nothing has changed!” cries Yumeha. Calderon doesn’t look surprised that she’s raised her voice, and she should have known he expected this, but it still hurts to know she’s just proving him right. “They all died for nothing! The suffering hasn’t ended or even gotten better. So—so I’m angry! I’m furious. I’m hurting, and it’s making me hate all of them; some days I hate everybody. And I know, I damn well know that if I give into these feelings, then that means I’m no better! Just another monster with a crown, the same as the King, the same as Zovack, the same as I’ve always been.”
She falls to the bed, head buried in her hands even though she can’t keep a grip on her own face through the tears. Her chest is twisted, her stomach roils, her hands are flushed red. There is a body here called Yumeha, and the terror inside bleeds infinitely outward, a mess of flesh and oil and blood that is not hers.
“But I’m still so angry,” she breathes helplessly. It doesn’t sound like any civilized race.
Even shifting her weight on the bed feels like sitting on broken glass.
There doesn’t seem to be any sound in the room at all besides her broken, glitching breaths. She wonders if the passage past her teeth and into her lungs is the only thing left of her that looks like a living person. She wonders if Calderon has gotten up and left, and she had been too self-absorbed to notice.
When Yumeha snaps her head up to check, there are blue eyes staring back at her. They’re dark, so dark that it’s hard to tell if the Captain’s stare is blank or fathomless and full.
“You’re not a monster, Yumeha,” he says, and she thinks she’s dreaming. Then, “Why haven’t you told anyone you felt this way?”
“How could I?” she asks. It feels more genuine than it has any right to be.
Calderon raises an eyebrow. “We’ve asked, haven’t we? I know it’s the kind of thing Bash would say. Aya, too, and I know you and Ryona are close, so forgive me if I find it impossible to believe she wouldn’t want to know. As your doctor and otherwise,” he says, looking away slightly at the end.
It stings a little more to remember how she hasn’t spoken to the person she trusts the most, but Ryona already struggles with a darkness of her own. Yumeha could never bring herself to add to it. She can’t be responsible for more suffering than she already is.
Her silence must have been too much of an answer because Calderon reaches forward and puts a hand on her knee. Yumeha flinches, startled, and when she looks down, she half-expects to see his hand covered in blood, veins turning black as she poisons him.
It’s a normal hand. It squeezes a little tighter.
“When you have power, the first step away from being a tyrant is knowing who that power can hurt,” he tells her. It sounds a little similar to something her sister might have said once, but trying to reach for the memory is like plunging her hand into an engine. Yumeha doesn’t think there’s enough left of her to pull anything back out. “Not just what it can do for you, but what it does to everyone involved. If I make a decision on this ship, there are seven other lives affected, and what is good for me might be something else for them. For you all. That’s where King Fenris…went wrong. He forgot there were lives in his hands because he was too busy trying to play the numbers to his own advantage.”
Yumeha doesn’t look up. She knows this. If she took back the throne now, she’ll be the same. Too young, too weak to carry the burden, too frightened and angry with the world to do anything but protect herself, no matter how much she wants to think otherwise.
He must know he’s not really getting through because Calderon shifts and ducks his head to try and catch her eye. “If anger and grief made monsters, there’d be no people on the Andromeda Six,” he says. “Don’t go thinking that you can treat your feelings differently from ours because you’re a Peg’asi.”
Nodding in reply feels like what Yumeha imagines it’s like learning to walk. Doing anything with a body for the first time. At first, she doesn’t realize she’s doing it, and when she does, it feels strange, like she could stumble at any moment.
“I won’t,” she says, sitting up straight. Her spine pops audibly. But a moment later, she deflates, because that’s not true. She’s known that no one on the Andromeda Six had a happy or even normal past. They’re all victims of tragedy, too, and she’s seen anger in Damon and Vexx and Ryona, grief in Aya and Bash and Calderon. She sees both in June, and yet she’s never once considered giving up on him.
“I’m trying,” she corrects herself.
Calderon smiles. “That’s step two,” he agrees. Yumeha isn’t sure she can even stand on her own yet, but it helps a little, at least knowing there’s a path to walk when she figures it out.
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A Tale Of A Lonely Comet
Whumptober Day 6: “No More”. Fandom: Andromeda Six.
“Stop!” he screamed. “No more of this, he’ll die!” he yelled. For his pleas to stay unheard. And unanswered. He could do nothing. Only to watch through the glass windows, not hearing a sound either. But feeling it. Feeling the hushed conversation between the people who called themselves his mother and father, feeling the buzzing of the lights and the numerous machines, feeling the burst of pain, shock, every bit of torture they put Jules through. “For the best of humanity,” they said. “For scientific causes.” Sheltered as he were, June could not disagree with them.
Yet even then he knew it was wrong.
For nothing can excuse a life lost.
He never abandoned his vows. His vow to protect other living beings, his vow to never lose anyone dear again. His vow to put his life—worthless as it were—below the lives of others. He could not save the one person who made his existence worthwhile back on Orion. That mistake would not happen again, and his own survival was of no relevance.
The Prince that he unknowingly saved, whom he cherished, despised, hated, and trusted enough to break down in front of. The Captain, the Pilot, the Medic, the Assassin, the Engineer… All of them. He would not let them die.
If anything were to happen, he would make sure to go down before the others.
Is that not the purpose of the Gunslinger?
Today, as he shouts “No more!”, they are tearing down the plants of Orion. Breaking folks out of well-guarded prisons, evading the numerous assassins, laying waste to more and more creations of the awful people that governed the system. Hand in hand, side by side with the crew, with Maq’ri. Returning home was painful, yet he admits that it was worth it. Worth it to bring peace to this planet, and to make things the way they should be. His cause was worthwhile, his shipmates are delightful. The Prince is… something else entirely.
He can’t say he wishes for his life to end.
He only wishes it didn’t take a sacrifice to get him where he is.
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not me and @ikilledmyocs enabling each other on our a6 obsession
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The Little Things - Damon x Alondra
Summary: Damon Reznor wasn't a fan of celebrating his birthday but lucky for him, Princess Alondra Peg'asi was very good at convincing him otherwise.
Originally written for Damon's birthday - July 17, 2020
Author’s Notes: Welcome to my first foray into the A6 verse! This was originally written with the intent of being posted for Damon's birthday, but it took a little longer than planned to finish.
Thank you for reading and hope you all enjoy! All characters except Alondra are property of Wanderlust Games.
Tag List: @hellomynameisdevi @brightpinkpeppercorn @leondaltons @toglidethroughlife @the-strangerthings @spookoofins @venuscrescent @mygeekycorner @ayameikeda
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Alondra bit her lip while waiting for the other line to pick up, her anxiety spiking as she ran a hand through her long, straight, jet black hair. This might have been the most nerve-wracking call she'd ever made, especially considering who she was calling. She could feel her pulse racing and her palms sweating as the line rang once, twice, three times until a click came through on the other side, the sound of people chattering in the background becoming more faint until the noise disappeared following the familiar closing of a door.
"Hey, Damon! Please don’t tell me you’re calling because you did something to fuck up what you have with the Princess.” It was definitely Alisa who picked up the communicator and just the person she needed to talk to.
"Oh, ummm... Hey Alisa, it's Alondra, not Damon," she tumbled out, trying to shake the nerves from her voice.
"Oh. OH. Hi Princess, what can I do for you? Wait, don’t tell me. Did he do anything I need to kick his ass for? Or for that matter, that I need to kick your ass for? But if you’re calling for advice about that jerk, don't forget that I told you so."
Read the rest over on AO3: The Little Things
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- was thinking about Unbridgeable but then found a way to turn the plot into a Calderon x Reader (or A6 crew x Reader?? series??).. and so I have different plans for Unbridgeable.
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Finishing up the June part for the A6 Sick Traveler series !! I hope to post it soon!!
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Perseus - The beginning of the end
Another Andromeda Six drabble featuring one of my travellers, Perseus Peg’asi, the day everything changed.
Disclaimer: The A6 crew, Vexx, Nerissa and the rest of the Peg’asi royal family all belong to @andromeda-six and Perseus is an original character created by me.
Warning: angst, guns, violence, gunshot wounds (not graphic), mentions of death.
With a frown, Perseus looks in the mirror and adjusts his ceremony attire, smoothing down any visible wrinkles in the dark blue fabric. His scarred face stares back at him in silent reproach, and he does his best to ignore it as he steps away.
Sorenn is getting married today. It is supposed to be a day full of happiness and cheer, bright smiles and nice food. Perseus is expected to be there for a change, but he’s decided he has other plans.
Vexx has been gone for a while, and nobody’s bothered to give Perseus a plausible reason for his disappearance. Perhaps he’s been transferred, they said. Maybe he got fired, others commented. But none of that feels right; he’s the closest thing Perseus has to a friend, and he refuses to believe Vexx would just leave without a word. He’s determined to find him, and this is probably the only chance he’s going to get in god knows how long.
As he determinedly makes his way towards one of the many passages that lead out of the palace, he checks that the hallways are empty before venturing further. So far he’s been lucky, but as far as luck is concerned, he knows it isn’t bound to last long.
“Perseus?” Nerissa’s voice snaps him out of his calculations as he’s getting ready to cross the corridor towards the big portrait of one of their ancestors.
He calmly stops in his tracks, his jaw tightening.
“Sister,” he turns to her, offering a small nod.
“What are you doing over here? The ceremony is about to start,” she asks, then glances over at the portrait painting. “Oh.”
He follows her glance, then looks back at her to hold her gaze.
“I have to find him.” He straightens up, squaring his shoulders. “He can’t have just vanished. He has to be somewhere.”
Nerissa’s frown softens into a sad smile that almost makes Perseus recoil in anger.
It’s full of pity.
“Does it have to be today?” she simply asks, making no attempt at stopping him. “Sorenn is excited to have you there. You’re his little brother.”
“Funny how I’m his little brother today, and not for the past twenty-three years of my life.” He gives a bitter laugh, the repressed anger slowly bubbling up inside him. “Where was he the day our dearest father almost cut my bloody face in half? Where were Auberon and Ecko, Noa, or Elettra? Apart from you, where was everybody?” his voice keeps rising with each question, echoing off the walls.
Nerissa doesn’t flinch, though. She’s practically raised Perseus, since their parents seemed to often forget he even existed, as did most of their siblings. She knows him too well to be scared in the face of one of his outbursts, and it’s also because of it that she knows it’s pointless to try to convince him to stay.
“Save it. Don’t try to excuse them. Don’t excuse him,” he snarls through clenched teeth. It’s pretty obvious who he’s referring to.
With a tentative hand, Nerissa reaches into her pocket and produces a small, shiny silver ball that she places on Perseus’ hand before he has a chance to withdraw it. He eyes it with a frown.
“Why are you giving me the music box?”
“I know it was my gift for your eighteenth birthday, but if you’re doing to leave, I want you to have it. I want you to remember this, remember me, in case something happens.”
Perseus’ frown deepens.
“Why would anything happen? I’m just going to find Vexx, and then I’ll return.”
Nerissa smiles and shakes her head, closing his hand around the kitalphanite music box.
“Just keep it, will you?” she insists. “Please.”
There’s something in her eyes he cannot quite place, something that hadn’t been there before. A shadow, a sort of dread and sadness that make his skin crawl. Unwilling to give it any more thought, he slips the music box into his pocket and gives his sister a firm nod.
“I’ll… see you soon.” His voice almost breaks. Almost. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
She just nods in reply and places her hand on his cheek, gently swiping her thumb across it. The touch is gone in an instant, though, as Perseus quickly steps away and covers his head with a hood. He disappears into the shadows of the passage behind the portrait without a last glance or word, his scar throbbing with pain.
He’s about to reach the bridge that separates the Gold and Silver Districts when it happens.
The ground shakes and rumbles beneath his feet, the sudden echo of an explosion resounding through the city. When Perseus whips around to locate the source of the noise, his breath dies in his throat.
Half of the palace has been blown up and the other half is almost completely engulfed in flames; the windows shattered, the walls collapsed, the trees in the gardens uprooted.
A string of ear-splitting screams reaches Perseus’ ears as the people around him realise what just happened. Some run past screaming, dragging little children behind them, while others stand and stare in horror at the enormous chaos unfurling before their very eyes.
The sound of gunshots is what snaps Perseus out of his shocked trance. Masked strangers in all-black uniforms are opening fire against all the Orsanna Guard officers they come across, as well as any civilians nearby. Bodies fall limp to the ground and Perseus doesn’t think twice before making a run for it—he can’t go back to the palace, so he rushes to the bridge, dodging a few bullets as he goes.
Grenades fly into the buildings and houses, many of them blowing up at the same time. Perseus’ ears are ringing heavily as he tries to find some cover to avoid getting crushed by the debris. He jumps over a fallen tree trunk and sprints towards the bridge, breath coming out in short gasps, until something makes him stop.
In the midst of all the chaos, a child is crying helplessly, clutching her mother’s dead body. She can’t be older than four or five.
“Mum! Mummy, wake up!” she calls, gently shaking her mother.
Those who are still alive or not badly injured are heading for the bridge, paying no mind to the poor child. Perseus’ heart seizes in his chest as he spots one of the masked attackers pointing their gun at the little girl from the other side of the street, and before he knows it he’s grabbing a brick and tossing it at their head. It smacks them right in the face and they fall backwards, their gun slipping from their hands.
Perseus wastes no time. He crosses the street, scoops the little girl up into his arms and takes the attacker’s gun.
“No! No! Mummy!” she screams, tears sliding down her face as they leave the body behind. “Let me go!”
“We have to go!” Perseus replies, running as fast as his legs can manage.
He doesn’t recognise his own voice. He hasn’t sounded so terrified before.
The bridge eventually comes into view. By the time they reach it, the little girl is clinging to his neck like a lifeline, but Perseus manages to set her down on the ground.
“You have to run now, as fast as you can, and don’t look back,” he tells her, breathless. “No matter what, don’t look back, understood? Go somewhere safe, and—agh!”
A searing pain cuts through his left calf, the sound of a gunshot echoing around them. Some stray bullet must have finally hit him. Groaning, he’s forced onto his hands and knees as little spots of light dance in the corners of his eyes.
“Go now!” he screams, reaching out and pushing the little girl into the crowd. “GO!”
Sobbing, the little girl hesitates for a moment, but later does as told and takes off, disappearing into the mass of people crossing the bridge. Perseus focuses on breathing deeply through clenched teeth, gripping the gun tightly in his left hand. If only he could lean on something to get back on his feet…
His vision is starting to become blurry as he drags himself towards the bridge, the concrete burning hot under his fingertips and the smell of dust and gunpowder flooding his senses.
His whole family is dead. Nerissa, his brothers and sisters, the King and Queens. All the officers in Orsanna’s Guard. Vexx, too, probably, if he was still in Silta Vie.
He has nothing left. Literally everything and everyone he thought he had is gone, and he’s lying face down in the concrete with a (probably nasty) bullet wound in his leg.
He’d laugh at the irony of it if he had the strength to do so.
He cries instead. The pain, the loss, the loneliness suddenly weighing down on him are unbearable.
He can’t move; the pain running up his leg is too much. It’s starting to become limp, so he refuses to take a look at it because he knows it’s not looking good.
He remembers the sorrow in Nerissa’s eyes just a few moments prior, the warmth of her hand against his cheek when she stroked it. The fact that that’s the last memory he’ll ever have of his sister is enough to make him scream in agony.
There’s another explosion, a much bigger one, and a lot closer to him. Perseus’ ears start ringing again as pieces of concrete and rubble fly in every direction, barely missing him. The shock wave that comes after is huge, so much that he has to cover his head with his arms to prevent any further damage as his body is rolled backwards against the ruins of a nearby building.
Still unable to hear a thing, Perseus forces his eyes open to see what’s going on.
The bridge has collapsed. The explosion must have been what destroyed it.
Smoke and dust fill his lungs as Perseus tries to draw a breath, causing him to cough and retch. Black spots start to dance in his vision as he leans back against the concrete, his body going limp.
Who would do this?
It’s suddenly really hard to keep his eyes open.
Who would think they have the right to decide who lives and dies?
Darkness envelops him. He feels like he’s a sinking ship in the middle of the sea. He wants to speak, scream, yell. But nothing comes out.
Is this how I’m going to die?
I don’t want to die.
“Here! There’s someone here!” a voice calls, far away. “He’s alive!”
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I am in desperate need for A6 content. Do A6 drabbles, scenarios, and headcanons exist? I am in a simp for Cal ! mood at the moment.
Or do I have to make those myself instead?
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It is nearly midnight and I am over here, a crying blanket burrito.
There’s always been quiet observations the main observations met are observations of a skilled hunter..... Damon was a skilled hunter.
The first of these observations was the way th amnesiac traveler carried themselves impeccable posture... not to mention they found them in the gold district so it was safe to bet they were one of the stuck up asshats from there.
However there was something else about them that didn’t contradict their wealth but perhaps Thier status. As soon as nobody was looking all the posture went alway the poise.... in favor of slumped shoulders and a look Damon had seen before... insecurity. No matter how high Thier status they had been beat down by those around them just like anyone else. Most likely with the same high and mighty bullshit they all sell.
The other things that Damon noticed was other than believing the amnesia was real based on the travelers fear and reactions..... they didn’t mind working... helping getting Thier hands dirty and which was unusual given the presented evidence.
Damon would have wondered if they were a spy if not for the high end pocket watch found on them.... there were other things Damon noticed too. For some reason they were also oddly relatable they joked with everyone so easily so early.
Then there was the observations he was making of himself around them....
At first he caught himself thinking they were attractive which isn’t odd exactly considering he enjoys casual flirtation with everyone.... however the sort of beauty this particular person held was more akin to something he’d see in an art museum worthy of awe and recognition..... (he immediately scolded himself for the thought as he was an assassin he didn’t do attachments they made him weak and even if he did he would ruin them.... drag them into danger.)
So he steeped himself to do the opposite. He at least wasn’t going to ruin somebody that perfect. He was going to try to keep them alive so maybe they could have better they deserved better. So he gave them more information than he usually gives more tips on defense more locale information
His second observation was the damn worry he didn’t even know them why was he worried about them they are a grown adult they can handle themselves....(even on dingy criminal filled planets they are adults)
He also just couldn’t help sneaking stares or looking at them accidentally he didn’t know why he kept trying to stop. TO JUST STOP IT. But there was something magnetic about them. He hated it. Or so he told himself
The final observation was the dreams the stupid dreams that for whatever reason they’d be stupid enough to give up a solo version whatever life they ended up remembering to spend time with him. Who the hell would sacrifice normalcy for him? Danger and trouble? But that didn’t stop him from imagining being able to keep them safe or having them to talk to about the shit that was on his mind (which was a lot.)
He just wanted the observation to stop there’s something wrong with him.... he ... isn’t....like this...
It’s a kind of good that hurts and he only just met them.
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The story I’m about to tell you is the story of 7 Alleyways
The first alleyway is encountered by an eavesdropping young Royal with a penchant for trouble spying yet again on thier fathers plans out of... twisted curiousity especially when their father the current king mentioned change from normal and change in routine. The young royals father had his newly appointed guards lined up in pristine order not unlike holiday nutcrackers.
“You May face unexpected challenges to your work so as guards I expect you to be ready for anything and everything.” The king noted scanning the crowd with almost scholarly study.
“For example Y/N I know your there we have discussed this. If you were not my child another court would accuse you of espionage. Luckily I know enough about myself to recognize my own youthful mischief in my children.” The king sighed
“Sorry Daddy.” Y/N bashfully looked away.... noticing an odd hue of fiery red hair.... and clothes and ok this dude really really likes the color red.
“I expect you to keep them in line.I will most likely assign you by age. However, know this I expect no trouble from either you or your charges. Especially no eavesdropping.” The king sent a knowing look to Y/N
“Dismissed.” The King declared
Y/N who scratched the back of thier neck.
“Oh and Vexx since they are your charge escort them back.” The king added.
“Sure your highness.” Vexx smirked before following orders.
The young royal proceeded walking with Vexx back to thier chambers...
“So you must really enjoy the color red?” The royal smirked eyeing the entire ensemble.
“It’s a bit of a personal moniker due to the hair....” to say Vexx was taken aback by Royals of any kind speaking to or noticing anything about him .... well let’s just say that would be the understatement of the year.
“I figured .... it just must be hard to try to blend into a crowd. No offense I like it it’s just...yeah.” The royal chuckled at their own stupidity.
“Your one to talk child of the king. Media darling ... and appearently according to your father “mischief””
Vexx chuckled air quoting mischief. He wasn’t originally sure about doing this whole gaurd thing... but his assignment doesn’t seem half bad. They have a sense of humor at least.
“First thing you should know if you’re to be working with me my family and the media are almost polar oppposites. One pays almost too much attention too me the other doesn’t notice my existence save for when I’ve caused trouble or dishonored my great ancestral line. An actual lecture I get more than I’d like too.” Y/N looked down.
“Well then I should strive to be the middle then shouldn’t I?” Vexx chuckled.
Was the first time Vexx had to come to terms with the fact he had been given the “hard” assignment.
A fact that became painfully obvious when looking around the empty quarters.
Even more obvious when Y/N in whatever garb they had on emerged from the secret alley portrait passage covered in paint... grinning like mad.
“What the hell?” Vexx with crossed arms and an even more cross face demanded.
“I ... Um... It’s not as bad as it looks my brother is a bore so I repainted his private personal portrait in his quarters .... with a unibrow and some buck teeth take him down a peg it’s in his chambers you won’t get in trouble...” Y/N frowned.
“I don’t care about getting in trouble or you’re brothers stupid portrait. You always talk about feeling alone when when were stuck here playing board games... however the one person who doesn’t want you to be alone and you ditch them.” Vexx lectured.
“You get paid to say that just like anyone else here... like the chefs who dump food on my plate and don’t so much as smile at me. Or the servants who cower in my direction fearing my anger but I’m not angry ... your whole directive is making sure I’m not alone is it so yeah...” Y/N retorted
“Ok then fuck this... fuck following the rules. And you know what fuck you’re entitled attitude. Yeah sure maybe this started as a job but I’ve seen you act like everybody’s puppet and I hate it. I’ve seen you cry alone on rainy nights and I’ve seen you do a fake smile that you convince is genuine. I watch you do that tapping thing you do in meetings and how you bite your lip to keep your mouth shut to please whatever dumb conviention this is.... I know that the idea of you’re father sort of looking like those weird candy’s never fails to make you laugh...and you know what at that point it kind of stops just being to quote you my whole directive so yeah sometimes ... and ...get this people actually care about you.” Vexx frowned now out of breath.
It had been a week since the previous fight. Y/N didn’t talk to him but he didn’t talk to Y/N. To be honest it was just killing both of them. Both Too awkward for anything other than side glances in the others direction..... and if one looked at the other at the same time they quickly moved thier head and pretended it was nothing. Simple. The trouble with the whole thing is that both ended up feeling just horribly guilty.
“I’m sorry.” They both tried to say before laughing
“Look I’m sorry I’ve been entitled I know I’m a bit privileged and stuck up.... it’s just the only time people have spoken to me how you do is usually right before my father announces he want me to entertain them as a possible suitor. Which spoils the whole thing ,because it ends up being fake. Interested in me for a position as a noble or to raise thier family status or to maintain ours... It’s stupid and annoying I’m sorry I didn’t realize you aren’t like that....” Y/N smiled.
“It’s ok and I’m sorry if I hurt you’re feelings but I meant what I said ... fuck the rules. There’s a passage right There nobody needs to know we’re gone. Pick a place.” Vexx thought.
“What if we get caught. If I prank my brother and ruin his commission portraits that’s one thing as I don’t leave the palace and it’s his personal thing not a relic..... but this .... I’ve seen people get in huge trouble for less.... if something happens to you because of my selfishness I...” Y/N explained.
“Disguises hmm... you do enough of those ridiculous fashion and tabloid magazines to know what a hat can do to change what people see you as... and lucky for you I have a nice kushy job working for the kings family so I can sometimes buy my friends a hat so where too?”Vexx chuckled.
“I’ve always wanted to try that cafe down the street with the themed cocoa.” Y/N smirked
“Done.” Vexx smiled
Before opening up the portrait alleyway in the wall
Alleyway 4 was an accident a close call in between Y/N entertaining another boring suitor and telling them everything Y/N disapproved of and a lecture from the king himself. Luckily Vexx opened the hallway passage just in time as the walls opened in closed again enough for Y/N to slip through.
“Ughhhh I don’t like any of them.” Y/N sunk against the wall down to the floor.
“Eventually he is going to do what he did to my eldest brother and force a proposal for an alliance” Y/N added
“Have you ever liked anyone?” Vexx inquired
“Once entirely by accident, but have I ever been in a real relationship not a staged one for tabloids or an arranged one for an alliance no....” Y/N frowned
“You deserve a real relationship Y/N not just something to please you’re parents or the press.... You deserve somebody who will cherish you I know what it’s like to be let down by people close to you or to want something you can’t have so badly.... I just think you deserve to have what you want especially when other people don’t get that privilege.” Vexx sat down next to Y/N
“What do you want that you can’t have.” The young royal questioned innocent and oblivious.
Unaware that to Vexx thier gaurd it May as well have been an interrogation by the heated all too familiar red color through out his face.
“It doesn’t matter I can’t have it.... I would be risking everything hell I’d be risking them.” Vexx ran his fingers through his hair in slight panic.
“Them?” Y/N frowned a bit not that they had intended it.
“Yeah.” Vexx replied “them.”
“You deserve happiness too Vexx.... you have helped me avoid arrangements that would have ignored my comfort and consent ...you allowed me to see outside for the first time from a citizens Perspective. You’ve allowed me freedom... you deserve the same. Fuck the rules right?” Y/N smiled melancholically.
“Yeah.....actually fuck the rules.” Vexx cuped his hands around Y/Ns cheeks and kissed them.
“Them ... you ....I ... Im sorry.” Vexx looked away.
“Fuck sorry.” Y/N kissed back.
“Y/N... It’s just your brothers wedding it’ll be fine.” Vexx lied and knew he had lied.
He tried to tell himself he could turn back that they didn’t have to die he was leaving today for good... he had to....
The event was in a week and well Vexx wasn’t and couldn’t stay for it... he just lied to the Royal he was guarding hoping that in his last hours as Thier gaurd they would get smart or be less trusting or be more like the other royals in Thier family ... and less Like themselves.....
He memorized Thier face before leaving... or tried too. If Y/N was lucky maybe they’d get out before the wedding see something outside the palace see ... before everything. He always could go back he didn’t have to give up the passages or the plans. He didn’t have to.... but he did have to he would die if he didn’t do it was a question of himself or them.
He wasn’t about to die not for anyone. So he found an alleyway and left forever.
It was done... he had heard it from one of the holographic tabloid screens outside of town.... they were dead they all had died .... the plan worked.
The bartender wasn’t enthused neither was anyone else the days leading up until the funeral days Vexx spent In drink in shithole taverns ...
Thier funeral the funeral of Y/N....
How could he do that? He ...? He killed them he wouldn’t see the gleam in thier eyes anymore. There would be no more of that stupid perfect melodious laugh. The worst part is for a royal Y/N believed in him as much as he “pretended” to believe in them.
He used to get a hug in the morning everyday without fail. Now he reminds himself when he wakes up that he left.. so he won’t be getting a hug. Now they are dead so no one will. Y/N also won’t sneak any of the guards the good food the royals are severed in buffet. There won’t be any more old high end clothing delivered to sick children from Y/N. No more interviews where they smiled and crinkled Thier nose cute..... it was all his fault he robbed the word of that.
So now he had to sober up and find himself at a funeral parade he didn’t exactly feel like attending at all.
It felt more like his funeral than even theirs....
He killed Y/N and was going to have the balls to go to Thier funeral.
Vexx wondered if thier ever was a worse sin than a killer going to the funeral of thier victim. Worse yet of thier ex that they killed. What sick irony made him feel he had too a fox mourning it’s last prey.
So when Vexx found himself disguised in the front of a crowd of mourners. Counting the sarcofigi until it got to theirs.....
2, the kings wives
3, his children
One by one.
To say it was melancholic is an understatement. To watch as a gold and silver box lit with digital lights to accentuate what they looked like alive.
The awful thing about it was Vexx noted even though it was well carved it didn’t pick up a lot about Y/N. Things that couldn’t be depicted now not in paintings or statues. The final resemblance to Y/N didn’t capture them at all.
Vexx noted Y/N was too mischievous always with a plan or prank... just to take the others down a peg. Always in trouble but always laughing. They had a habit of putting their head back. The sarcophagus should have had Thier smirk at least...
But it didn’t ... he didn’t .... no one did.
He remembered suddenly he wasn’t just at the funeral for a friend or lover ..... he was at the funeral of the people he killed and suddenly the bodies just the sheer numbers made him feel more like the people carrying the satcophogi. He left the crowd to hide back in an alleyway..... with heavy shoulders the bottle from the bar and a reason to forget.... how many bodies and how many people had he taken from Thier loved ones how many just like Y/N with smiles and laughs. How many guards he had trained with.
It didn’t matter he just wanted to forget.
Vexx hated ghosts or at least the idea of them but in the crowded bar. On what must’ve been the shadiest planet ever he started hallucinating.
Y/N was dead
He had killed Y/N
He never deserved them they should have ran. If they stayed away from him he couldn’t have hurt them. Especially not for his selfish purposes.
Vexx weaved his way out of the bar with his latest drink in hand avoiding the once living and carefree royal now stoic ghost. When he walked far enough to understand it was just illusion he sighed.
That is until he heard the same eerily paced footsteps shambling against the desert floor.
Loosing his smart ass composure he dropped the remains of his glass.
Getting whoever or whatever was following him into a hold. Uttering some quick threat about how stupid it is to follow strangers into alleys he pressed a knife into the throat of whoever this was. Y/N is dead so it’s probably somebody copying Thier style it’s not entirely unlikely people didn’t want to dress like they did they were known for that.
“Who are you?” Vexx questioned through gritted teeth.
“Y/N.” They sounded unsure before Thier face contorted in pain.
“Prince(ss)?” Being the only word he could utter as they weren’t a ghost he felt them he touched them.... his skin felt the same unmistakable tickle of warmth where his hands met Thier neck.....
It was them very much alive and as much as he wanted to give in right here say sorry and cry about what he’d done .... he was about to do the opposite because maybe if Y/N thinks He hates them then Y/N won’t try to save him or follow him or redeem him
Vexx killed Thier family which made him not only dangerous but a monster and so upholding a broken vow made so long ago Vexx looked Y/N in the eyes and broke Thier heart one final time in hopes that he could protect them like he should’ve what now feels like a lifetime ago
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Odette proves a point.
“Hey, Bash? What would it take for you to do me a favor?”
The engineer looks up from the list of supplies he’s double checking, eyebrow raised. He finds Odette, their resident princess, leaning over the railing of the stairs leading down into the docks. It’s hard to reconcile the Odette standing in front of him with the picture in his mind of what Princess Odette might look like. Her clothes are a borrowed, mismatched assortment of things the crew had – leggings from Aya, an extra shirt of June’s, a jacket from Ryona. But there’s a different air about her now that hadn’t been there in those first few days on the A6 – a confidence that squares her shoulders.
“That’s a loaded question,” he chuckles, “depends on the favor.”
Odette tilts her head this way and that, as though considering his reply. After a long moment she says, “I need your help with something.”
“Would you help me get a weapon?”
Bash can’t hide his surprise. That’s certainly not what he was expecting. “Didn’t,uh, didn’t Damon give you a dagger?”
Odette nods, pulling the dagger from the waist of her pants for emphasis. “He did, but I’m pretty sure he only gave it to me to see if I would accidentally disembowel myself with it. Don’t get me wrong, I can use it, just not with any semblance of skill and I’d more likely end up hurting myself.”
“Alright,” Bash says slowly as he turns to put the supply list down and move toward the crates of weapons Oppo’s workers brought on board. Behind him, he hears the metal echo of the stairs as Odette descends. “We’ve got plenty of guns, just depends on your preferred kind.”
“I’m not a gun girl,” she answers.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared of ‘em?” he wonders with a laugh.
He hears Odette scoff a laugh, the sound reminding him suddenly of Damon. “I’m not afraid of anything, and there’s black hole where my heart should be.”
Bash turns to look at her, blinking owlishly. Her statement is so unlike the young woman he’s coming to know as a friend that for a moment he struggles with a reply. “That’s… bleak.”
Odette crosses her arms, but won’t look at him. “Things I learned from my mother.” She shakes her head and continues, “Anyway, you really think the youngest princess was going to be allowed to learn to use a firearm? Unlikely. I’m a trained archer.”
“Like a... bow and arrow?” he questions.
“Yep!” She smiles, bright and wide. “You know Nos Vega, I figured you’d know where I could find one amid all the shady markets and weapon vendors.”
Bash breathes a sigh, closes his eyes and tries to rack his brain for any of the sellers that might have what Odette’s looking for. Finally, he looks at Odette’s hopeful, open expression and tells her, “I might know of one guy. But his prices -”
She interrupts him, a sly smile sliding across her lips as she says, “Let me worry about that.”
Bash can barely swallow down his surprise the entire trip back to the A6 while Odette practically skips beside him with her new tactical-tech bow and quiver slung over her back. To say that he’s impressed with her would be an understatement. She had somehow managed to negotiate the price of the bow to less than half of the original exorbitant price the vendor had been asking. And all because Odette had noticed that it was missing a few parts, though she was confident that she could repair it. Besides, she’d said to the vendor making sure that her voice carried, he wouldn’t want word getting out that he was charging top dollar for broken merchandise.
“How did you do that?” Bash finally asks, once the A6 is within sight.
“Haggle that well.”
A burst of laughter erupts from Odette. “It’s just a slightly more aggressive form of diplomacy,” she replies. After a beat she throws him a smile and adds, “Plus I’m incredibly charming.”
“Yeah, but there were other bows, why’d you pick the one that was busted?”
That sly smile takes its place back on Odette’s face. “What are you talking about? The bow was in perfect condition.”
Bash stops suddenly, confused. “But you said...”
Odette turns as she digs into the pocket of her jacket, that smile still firmly in place as she presents him with an assortment of parts sitting in the palm of her hand. All the parts that Odette had told the vendor were missing from the bow. He goes back over their visit to the weapons vendor, how Odette had picked up the bow and showed it to him, telling him about the different parts, pointing out unique features and the things that she was looking for in a bow as her hands moved from one part of the bow to the next in an excited flurry.
“You… dismantled it when you were inspecting it,” Bash realizes and he can’t stop the grin that overtakes his face. There’s an anxiety there as well, nagging at the back of his mind – if that vendor manages to figure out what Odette had done…
“In my defense, he was asking way too much for it,” she says with a shrug. Then she pulls the bow from her shoulder and goes about reattaching all the pieces she’d removed as they continue walking.
“Where the hell have you two been!?”
Bash and Odette stop at the raised voice, looking up to see the Captain, Damon and June all standing on the ramp into the ship. They’re all geared up, looking as though they’re just getting ready to head out. And it’s then, seeing the anger coloring Cal’s face, and the annoyance pinching Damon’s that Bash remembers he and Odette hadn’t told anyone they were leaving. Fuck.
“Sorry, Cap -”
Odette steps forward before he can finish. “It’s my fault,” she says, her arm held out in front of Bash’s chest. “I asked Bash to help me get myself a weapon.”
Cal scoffs. “Why am I not surprised? Do you even truly appreciate the situation you’re in, Princess? You should have come to me first -”
“For what!?” Odette snaps, her voice sharp. “So you could tell me no? Or maybe I should have gone to Damon, who probably would have laughed himself sick had I asked. And June, well, June can barely even look at me so asking him to help me was out of the question, too!”
June, Bash notes, has the decency to look ashamed as he casts his gaze down though he doesn’t say anything.
“You still should have come to me first!” Calderon shoots back through gritted teeth. “I am the Captain of this crew! Zovack’s clan has the run of this city, what would you have done if someone recognized you?”
“And what do you think they would have done to Bash?” Damon adds.
The Princess throws up her arms. “Why does no one take me seriously when I say I can take care of myself?”
At that Damon laughs, actually laughs. “Maybe because you haven’t proven it,” he replies and there’s a challenge to his tone that has Calderon turning to raise his eyebrow at the second-in-command.
The glare that Odette aims in Damon’s direction would have had anyone else shrinking under the intensity of it. But Damon seems to realize something then, and a grin starts to spread across his face.
“Fine,” Odette says. And then she’s looking around the junkyard until something catches her eye. She moves from Bash’s side to pick up an old, small tin can before coming back and presenting it to him. “Throw this as far as you can.”
“Okay...” he trails off and takes the can from her outstretched hand.
Odette nods as she pulls an arrow from the quiver, loads it into the bow and waits. Bash tosses the small can between his hands, considering – she had told him to throw it as far as he could. He passes the can back into his metal hand with finality, then he reels his arm back and hurls it with more strength than his flesh and blood arm would ever be capable of.
He watches the can so sailing through the air, has a moment of doubt that he may have gotten carried away. But beside him, Odette moves. She turns, pulls back the draw, her eyes tracking the can as it tumbles further and further from them with an intensity in her expression Bash has never seen before. A breath passes through Odette’s parted lips, Bash hears the snap of the string against her forearm...
Her arrow meets the can at the height of its arc, a tinny thwink! echoing back to them.
A slow round of applause has Odette turning back to the A6 where both June and Calderon wear near twin expressions of surprise. Damon, on the other hand, has kept his mask of neutrality firmly in place.
“We done here?”
It’s not my best writing, but it feels good to write again.
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Rock Me, Amadeus | T | Hurt/Comfort | Andromeda 6
"MALIFER PLEASE HELP THEM"
He startled awake in a cold sweat, it took him a minute to realize where he was.
"Your safe, shes safe" he whispered, he laid back down and took a deep breaths, despite him knowing everything was okay,
that they were safe on the A6. Despite that, he couldn't help but feel the need to check on Amadeus. He sighed before getting up, wrapping his blanket around him. Stepping foot outside of his room, "open the door, check on her, go to bed" he repeated to himself, his bare feet met with the icy cold floors of the hallways.
he walked and turned a few corners, pausing outside of her door. He opened it to find Amadeus sitting on her bed staring out at the stars. To say he was surprised was nothing short."Amadeus, your awake?" he asked but received no response. Only then did he hear it. Her music The calming yet, melancholy tone filled the room. His face soften as he walked to her bed and sat next to her,That was apparently enough to snap her out of whatever horrible thoughts she was having."Oh....Malifer, i didn't hear you.." she trailed off as she noticed his bloodshot eyes. She turned back to the stars, before whispering "Nightmares?" he dryly chuckled. "How'd you know?" She smiled sadly, "Same boat" he paused, "you remember them at all?" she shook her head finally meeting his gaze. "you?" "not really, i just remember fire..." He Mumbled, as she let out a soft hum fiddling with her hair, her drifting eyes started to glaze. "Hey hey no-" he gently held her face "don’t you start getting all mopey on me come here" He pulled her into him, holding her, rubbing circles into her arms as she softly cried,
"We're safe Ama" he cooed,
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late but another thing i wrote for a6! involves my own oc traveler though, so. this is primarily for my benefit l o l, but there are some good times with damon and cal to be had.
should update in the future with more scenes in later a6 chapters!! thank u devs for ur hard work the valentines dlc was *teary chefs kiss*
* a doodle of the OC in question, if anyone wanted a visual... i am not an artist (in case that was in doubt). just an idiot boy who’s cold in below 50F temps.
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Happy Birthday, Stowaway.
I shouldn't have drunk so much.
It was three in the morning, or at least that was my best guess, based on the pink clock hanging on the opposite side of my tiny room and my not-so-trustworthy-now eyes. I was laying half-dead on the bed, having no energy whatsoever.
It wasn't the best birthday written in my memory - especially considering the fact that I remembered exactly none of the previous ones - so I decided to treat myself with a little bottle of wine...
...and ended up buying the whole shelf.
But fuck it, after all that happened lately I fully deserved it.
- Happy birthday, thottie - I said under my nose, pouring yet another glass of the driest red wine I could find. It was my "bitter" day, so I was happy that nobody bought me a cake.
In fact, nobody bought me anything, actually. But that's just a little detail. Not that I even told anyone my birth date, either.
All of a sudden, I heard knocking on the door. I had no idea who wanted to meet me at that hour, but I was way too drunk to care enough to check it. Hell, I had no energy to even open my eyes. Maybe someone had a vision in their dream, magically learned what day it was, and wanted to wish me a late happy birthday?
Not likely, but no one would ever stop me from dreaming.
Still staying in the comfort of my bed, I yelled lazily:
- Come on in, lost soul. You can leave the presents in the corner.
For a few moments I wasn't sure if they heard me, but just then the door opened gently.
Was it June? Ryona, perhaps? Better not her, she'd kill me.
- Good evening, Stowaway.
Suddenly, all of my energy got restored, and the next second I found myself laying in a more seductive manner, with my eyes fully centered on this fucking giant. And dear God, he was just as tall as he was hot.
- Oh hello there, Captain Handsome. What kind of an urgent emergency is bringing you to me at this lovely hour?
Just wow, Cath. You're absolutely the best at handling talking to people while drunk, aren't you.
I couldn't hold back a smirk though, when I saw the confusion mixed with a little bit of curiosity and fake frustration in his honey gold eyes.
- Oh God, not you, too - He whined, closing the door with a loud crack, in which all of the remaining gentleness that had surprised me earlier disappeared. Well, that was quick, not gonna lie.
- And here I thought you would like it. Isn't it cruel, even for you, to break my little poor heart like that? - I leaned back, dramatically covering my eyes with the outer part of my palm. - Though I might have gone a little overboard with the whole "handsome" thing, I agree. My bad.
I loved messing with him. I just believed that this overly proud, self-absorbed prick with a stick up his ass longer than my life line needed a little cutting down to size.
He frowned, unsatisfied.
- Call me that once more and I'm cutting your salary by half. - He leaned against the wall. - What even made you think it was a good idea?
- A tiny, itsy-bitsy bit of alcohol, probably.
He then noticed a few bottles laying on the ground. On the bed. In my empty "presents corner".
And fucking everywhere else.
Calderon started grinning, and I couldn't help but feel the irresistible urge to wipe this little smirk off of his sweet face.
- If anyone asks, it's grape juice.
- What kind of grape juice forces people to make a fool out of themselves in front of the others?
- Well, I should be probably asking you this question - I had to bite my lip to hide the mischievous grin that was about to spread all over my face, seeing Cal's reaction. - What? Did I strike your nerve, Captain?
- When didn't you? - He brought himself back to the straight standing position, and being the classic grumpy Calderon everyone knew so well again. - Well, you're having fun, I see. I only hope it won't affect your presence during tomorrow's duties.
Saying that, he lowered his eyebrows and gave me that firm look he just loved giving everyone.
- It would be a shame if you weren't around, considering that you're starting this week with your first kitchen shift. That would be pretty incompetent, even for you. - He gave me a sarcastic look. - And besides, you wouldn't like to be kicked out of the crew so soon, would you?
I rolled my eyes.
- I'd manage, I'm a smart girl. But wait... - I sat more comfortably. - Was this your entire point of coming to my room? At three in the morning? - I breathed in and out loudly. - Oh my God, and here I thought you couldn't be any more... you.
- I just wanted to be sure that I won't have to starve, waiting for our lovely princess bubblegum to make us all this exceptional honor of waking up and condescendingly serving us a meal. - He looked at me sarcastically. Again. - Also, was that an insult? If so, I feel deeply offended - After saying that, he processed to raise one of his eyebrows to the sky.
I fake gasped.
- Me? Insulting you? Never! Now I am offended. I love your ass-stick so much that I wait for the day when you finally pull it out so I can see it closely - I formed a little heart with my hands.
A part of me didn't buy his excuses, or maybe didn't want to buy them, so I asked:
- Are you sure this was your only motive coming here, though?
- Don't even try to provoke me.
I smiled to myself.
- Don't you worry, sir. I was going to fall asleep soon anyway...
That was a lie.
- ...and at the very least I didn't plan to misbehave.
That was an even bigger lie.
Suddenly, a fun idea crossed my mind.
I smiled and looked him straight in the eye, innocently.
- I mean, unless you order me to, of course. You're the captain here, after all.
That ought to be interesting, I thought.
Calderon realized what was going on, or at the very least that was what it seemed like based on the look painting on his face. Posing myself a little more seductively on the bed again I gave him a challenging look, and after a few moments of what I guessed was an inner fight whether to join me or not, his expression changed, mimicking my own.
Ladies and gentlemen, or whatever other pronoun you prefer, please give a warm welcome to our new Player 2!
Let me see what you've got on you then, golden boy.
I stood up from the bed and tried my best to walk up to him without tripping on one of the dozens of bottles left after my one-guest-only-party. I was doing just great (or so I thought), but then I remembered that one small detail, which was that I was kinda fucking drunk and my legs didn't work that well anymore.
After coming up with some - not gonna lie -quite creative curses in my head, I tripped and started falling off.
Oh yes, breaking my nose was definitely going to make me look incredibly sexy. Good thing I'd look amazing no matter the circumstances - or so I'm told, at least.
Accepting the fact that I was about to lose my own game that I started literally a minute ago, and probably a few teeth as a bonus, I covered my face with my arms and prayed to not fell on a bottle. I had enough shitty scars already.
Just before hitting the ground, I unexpectedly felt a tight grip on my waist that held me back and I sighed with relief. Looks like for a moment I forgot that Cal was, indeed, in the same room as me. And I could say a lot of not exactly favorable things about him, but even he wouldn't just let me break my entire face in front of his feet.
And besides, blood is quite hard to wash off, so here's that, too.
As I was making myself stand on two feet again with a little of Cal's help, I rememberd my first day on the A6 and what I told June when the exactly same situation happened.
Maybe our flirting battle wasn't over yet after all.
Why am I falling so often here, by the way?
- Nice catch! Now you can tell the others that I fell for you. - I winked at him.
This line is fucking brilliant and you cannot convince me otherwise.
Cal didn't look too impressed, though.
- Well, hadn't you before that, already?
...Was I this obvious?
I tried to keep a straight face, ignoring the heat that was spreading all over my cheeks. Wow, I blush so rarely that I've actually forgotten how it felt like.
And I didn't like this feeling at all.
- Aren't you a little bit too confident, dear? - saying that, I tried to keep my balance. I didn't want to rely on him so much.
When I was finally stable on the ground and in (almost) full control of my body once again, I "accidentally" lost my balance and leaned closer to him. Then, I wrapped my arms around his neck like it was nothing; like I was just trying to not fall again.
To be honest, I wasn't sure if he would even let me do that, but he did - and that was the moment when I knew my plan was working.
Our faces were almost touching and I had to hide the excitement of knowing what was going to happen next, because come on, even a child would guess that.
I looked him straight in the eyes with a bold expression.
He then asked me with visible playfulness in his eyes:
- I knew you were quite a flirt before, but... - he laughed shortly. - Do you always mess with hearts of the innocent when drunk?
- Only with the ones that I'm interested in when sober. Very interested in - I said without skipping a beat.
A huge, mischievous grin spread across my face as I saw Calderon's beautiful reaction. It was so obvious he didn't see that coming, and the image of him squirming under my gaze was quite satisfactory to watch.
- Oh, what's that, captain? Caught you off guard? - I was so drunk that I started laughing at my own stupid joke. - Get it? Off guard?
Did I really just cockblock myself like that.
After a few seconds, my incredibly dry and unfunny pun hit Cal like a hard rock that must have damaged his head, because he started laughing uncontrollably with me. The sad thing was that, unlike me, he was actually sober. Oh, Cap.
I couldn't tell how long we were in this state, but let me tell you, way too long.
- Okay, you got me here, I admit - he giggled one more time shortly in a low voice, composing himself way faster than I ever could. - What do you want now, a cookie?
- If you insist. - I said that, wiping tears off my face, still smiling like an idiot. - I'm always down for something sweet, ya know.
Like a kiss.
Or something a little more than a kiss.
He started looking serious again and I couldn't believe how fast he went from an adorable dork to an ordinary jackass in a matter of seconds.
No, wait. I could, actually. It's Calderon, after all.
- Alright, it was fun and all, but now better wipe that stupid grin off of your face and go to bed.
- Or else? - I asked him, looking from under my long eyelashes, as innocently as I possibly could, and smiling like an angel that I definitely wasn't.
- Or else I'll have to make you do it.
This simple sentence was enough to make my whole body hot, with the desire so powerful that could knock me out any second.
I didn't expect him to answer me like that at all.
Am I horny or am I horny?
- I'd love to see you try - I said, while desperately trying my best to keep my cool. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.
But then he looked me with lust in his eyes and my whole plan of not acting like I've lost my mind fell apart.
I felt like a complete idiot, no one has ever made me act like that except for this jackass. I was always the one making other lose their minds, for fuck's sake! How did the roles turn around so fast?
What's more important, why did I even like him this much? He was like every other high-class dick I've met in my life, and believe me, I've met a lot of them.
And yet, there was something... else, about him. Something that somehow made me interested in him.
For the first time in a very long time I was flirting not to gain what I wanted to survive or simply out of habit, but because I wanted to, and because I actually meant it. And I... almost felt like didn't have to keep my mask on.
- You know that ignoring the orders of your boss is not the brightest idea, considering your current situation, right?
- Oh, shut up - I tip-toed, waiting for my kiss.
He then leaned down and whispered to my ear:
- Happy birthday, Stowaway.
And just like that, he was gone.
- Well played, Captain. Well played.
My first fanfic ever, yay! Haha
I'm not a writer and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for all the mistakes, weird writing etc.
I had fun writing this though, so if anyone likes it I might post my other fics ^w^
Happy Valentine everyone ~
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join the andromeda 6 discord for good times and fic prompts:
...first fic in 9 years! have another longer one (not for a6, sadly), in the drafts... it’ll come along.
to the in-depth found family fics to come!
fingers crossed i’ll figure out how to write them.
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ok i’m doing this to organize my wips and planned fics because i can’t- i have too many and they’re so disorganized ahaaa
and hey yknow what if any of y’all actually read through this and want a sentence or two from anything just to get a little sneak peak send me an ask or something (only for the in writing ones though cause like yeah)
under the cut because this is gonna be looooong
planned (random rants)
literally all of tlok, kyalin version (rewrite of first few chapters + writing the rest)
lin adopts asami au
university au, lin
villaneve style kyalin
38, mako and bolin
angstpril day 25, lin
angstpril day 26, kyalin au
angstpril day 27, kyazumi, parts one and two
angstpril day 28, lin
angstpril day 29, suyin, parts one through five
angstpril day 30, kyalin, parts one and two
kyalin top lin smut
partners in crime chapter 12
partners in crime chapter 13
partners in crime chapter 14
partners in crime chapter 15
partners in crime chapter 16
memory loss kyalinzumi
hundred year war continued, kyalin, evil izumi
mommy lin smut
87, kyalin, turtleducks
started (in writing)
partners in crime chapter 17
fuckboy lin chapter two
angstpril day 24, lin
vague ideas, songs, requests without notes, etc.
kyalin inspired by @mgthejerkbender’s post about lin shielding kya with her body as they leave the restaurant
apocalypse kyalinzumi au
american pie that one verse kya or izumi talking to lin
aang dies 10 years earlier, older korra au
kyalin based on that one tiktok
at least a few of the arranged marriage aus from that post
at least a few tropes from that other post
once more to see you by mitski, kyalin
thing inspired by/using the line from this post
vices by mothica, lin
linzumi perfect date night
lin service animal
planned and in progress drawings
linzumi height difference
f4 lin volcano
g6 lin and a9 kya existential crisis
b10 lin pspsps
g10 ikki kin list
f4 kya fistfight with god
a6 mako and lin existential crisis
h5 suyin catjam
c4 bumi arson
d10 bumi fistfight with god
e1 pema lin list
e4 tenzin sounds of crying
a3 kai minecraft
b2 kya sounds of crying
g1 kya minecraft
line without a hook kyalin animation
lin with swords
kya being hot
another ship dynamics kyalin
catgirl lin animation
that,,, is a lot,,, oops
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